Parting
by Lipush
Summary: "Who will be there to listen to her tender afterthoughts when the night covers the day after a long case? Who will enrich her world with crazy theories, walk through the house of cards when facts go against reason, demolish the bricks of irrationality that tend to destroy any spark of human kindness?"... One-shot after 'Watershed'.


**A/N****- I felt like writing something. It usually happens once I hear the rain pouring outside, then I cuddle up with my Ipod, cup of warm coffee and my laptop in front of me. But lately all that comes up is angst, and I want to try something different.**

**I'd like to hear your opinion of this. If you like, great; if you think it's horrible, and I never should try this out again, do tell me.**

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**Parting**

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They stand in-front of each other at the doorstep, hands entwined, eyes round with dejection.

It is time.

Suitcases were packed, last arrangements made, goodbyes said and then some.

Taking a deep breath, Beckett bites her lips till she can almost taste blood; Castle, on his part, takes her in, silently. The glint in her eyes, the never-fading touch of vanilla-strawberries shampoo, combined with the delicate scent of her perfume.

He can read her perfectly.

She's anxious.

Anxious, and scared, and overwrought, about to step into a territory which is far different from anything she has known until now.

But this is her chance at doing something more, and he could never cut her wings off; she deserves it. She's _meant_ for it. The long and lonely nights he'll spent in his loft, her place in his bed vacant, as the pillow crying her lack of presence, won't change any of that.

They're both determined to make this work, and they will.

She smiles tightly at him, as they stand in-front of each other now.

She asked of him earlier, not to accompany her to the airport. It is best this way. Once she settles in her new place- a place she knows she won't call home, since home was this, her home was his home- she'll give him a call.

"Ready to go?" he asks her feebly, his voice hoarse with emotion.

They won't see each other for long days now, that they both know. He promised to respect her new schedule and not to press, to give her the time needed for her to adjust.

Thinking about it now, she's not sure about this request anymore.

But she nods repeatedly, her hand reaches up to touch his cheek, as he leans into her palm; "Yes," she releases a breath, pursing her lips achingly.

They're engaged now, about to start a new chapter in their lives, one that will starts miles away from each other. This will put them to the test, without a doubt.

Beckett has no intention to fail.

Searching for his closeness, her body asking for his love and warmth, she leans in, as they close the gap to lock in a soft, passionate embrace. His lips on hers are almost desperate, as he can't get enough of her.

When they finally part, a sigh leaves both of them.

Blinking softly, Beckett's fingers reach to bury themselves in his hair, a sad smile appears on her lips. Holding each-other for just few more minutes, they part.

"I don't want to do this…" he mumbles softly.

DC is far. Is cold. She'll be there all alone.

Who will be there to listen to her tender afterthoughts when the night covers the day after a long case? Who will enrich her world with crazy theories, walk through the house of cards when facts go against reason, demolish the bricks of irrationality that tend to destroy any spark of human kindness?

Who will bring her morning coffee, clear out the rubble of the wall she so successfully forced down, listen to her when she needs to, force some reason into her when there's no other choice but to, walk alongside her evenly, unconditionally, even when she doesn't want them to?

_Who will take care of her?_

He doesn't know, he's not sure. As she turn to pick up her luggage, as he offers a weak smile, one that is full of worry and doesn't completely reach his eyes, the thought keeps hunting him.

He is her knight in shining armor, he took it upon himself to be her forever, to be her one and done, and even with cities and continents parting them, he's still determined to be just that.

This doesn't change the fact that he worries. That he's concerned, frightened, almost.

With a soft sigh, she kisses him again, a kiss that is soft and precious and not nearly enough and he wants to tell her to stay, or that he'll go after her, or that they should maybe just leave it all and find some faraway place where it'll be just the two of them…but he does none of this.

Their eyes lock for a long second, and like that- she's gone.

Through the door, into a world which is out of his reach, out of his sight, and he's worried.

The loft is quiet, already noticing her absence.

It seems like eternity passes before his phone chimes, and her tired voice greets him.

She's ok. The flight went smoothly, she settled in.

The apartment is cold and sad; she cannot bring herself to unpack just yet.

_She misses him._

He misses her to, they talk for long minutes, his thick voice lulling her to sleep like a small infant taking refuge in its parent's voice; they talk about nothing and everything, until her hears the fatigue in her voice, and then they talk some more, until silence is more evident than her soft voice.

That first night is hard, for both of them. The cold space in each of their beds is almost pure torture.

It will be so in the next day. And the one to follow. And the one after that.

But they will slowly adapt.

When he makes his way to Washington, the following week, they're both eager. Demanding. Passionate. And sure.

He is her Always. He is her forever. A diamond ring, which touches her scar, laying softly on her necklace, is a mute witness to their silent promise.

Something that death itself won't change.

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**Please read and review.**

**I know I promised I'll update my other story, and of course I will, once I fix some things I wrote previously. It won't be long, don't you worry.**


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